I Have Arranged My Little Life.

You Can Pretend For A Long Time, But One Day It All Falls Away And You Are Alone. We Are Alone In The Most Beautiful Place In The World.

Before I Could Read, Almost A Baby, I Imagined That God, This Strange Thing Or Person I Heard About, Was A Book.

When You Are A Child You Are Yourself And You Know And See Everything Prophetically. And Then Suddenly Something Happens And You Stop Being Yourself; You Become What Others Force You To Be. You Lose Your Wisdom And Your Soul.

Every Word I Say Has Chains Round Its Ankles; Every Thought I Think Is Weighted With Heavy Weights. Since I Was Born, Hasn't Every Word I've Said, Every Thought I've Thought, Everything I've Done, Been Tied Up, Weighted, Chained? And Mind You, I Know That With All This I Don't Succeed. Or I Succeed In Flashes Only Too Damned Well. ...but Think How Hard I Try And How Seldom I Dare. Think - And Have A Bit Of Pity. That Is, If You Ever Think, You Apes, Which I Doubt.

Soon He'll Come In Again And Kiss Me, But Differently. He'll Be Different And So I'll Be Different. It'll Be Different. I Thought, 'it'll Be Different, Different. It Must Be Different.